


A sleepless night at the Redcliff Inn.

by Adara_Rose



Series: a mage is only as great as his staff [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Sex, Felching, Light Angst, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Loud Sex, M/M, Rough Sex, Top Drop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 13:45:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5006977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adara_Rose/pseuds/Adara_Rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It'd be a really nice inn if it weren't for the thin walls. And the inquisitor fucking his boyfriend in the next room.</p><p>Cassandra is in for a long, sleepless night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A sleepless night at the Redcliff Inn.

As far as inns go this was one of the nicer ones, Cassandra had to give them that. The bed was big and sturdy, the bedding clean, the food decent, ale cheap. But it had a glaring problem and she was going to complain about it first thing in the morning. IF she survived the night.

The wall shuddered again. A muffled cry could be heard, even as she pulled the pillow over her head. Right. Thin walls. And the Inquisitor and that blasted Tevinter Mage in the next room, proving just how sturdy the bed was.

 Curse them both to the void.

 

* * *

 

The gleam in Lavellan's eyes when he said they were staying the night at the Redcliff Inn really should have made warning bells go off in Dorian’s head, but to be fair he was still partly reeling from having slayed a dragon - _a dragon!_ The Bull was going to kill them all when he found out they’d gone after a dragon without him. Then he’d probably drag them all over Thedas to kill more. If they did, he was not coming along, because a good fight made his boyfriend horny but slaying a dragon turned him into a sex crazed maniac. He’d been all hands through dinner and dragging his lover up to their room before Dorian had finished his second drink.

 Okay, so sex crazed maniac was not necessarily a bad thing, Dorian admitted as Lavellan pushed two fingers into Dorian’s already abused hole, slick with oil and seed from earlier escapades. He pulled his lover closer for a truly filthy kiss, moaning with pain-tinted pleasure as a third finger wormed its way inside.

 “Amatus, we have -ah- a long road ahead of -nngh- us tomorrow, I need to - _oh!_ \- be able to ride.” He protested feebly, instinctively spreading his legs to give better access.

 “Oh, you’ll ride, alright” Lavellan smirked, using his other hand to stroke his already hardening member which had already emptied itself between Dorian’s thighs twice, once pressed up against the wall and once on the floor. Dorian swore he had splinters in his back from that. Apparently, the elf wasn’t done with him yet. Maker help him.

 Lavellan rolled over on top of him, mouth attaching to his in a greedy kiss even as their hips pressed together, moving in a rhythm they both knew well at this point. This had happened many, many times before, the thrill of the smaller body pressing him down was familiar, but it never failed to excite him. If you had told him just a year ago that a man who barely reached his chest could dominate him so completely in a sexual way, he’d have set you on fire for the audacity. But now? Lavellan's hips fit between his legs in a way that must have been premeditated. As if they were created to slot together like this, over and over and over again.

 Lavellans hot mouth abandoned his, trailing scorching kisses across his jaw, down his neck, pausing to suck a deep red welt where his neck met his shoulder. The elf’s hands were stroking a burning path down Dorian’s body, inflaming every part they touched. Dorian let his head fall back onto the pillow, staring blankly at the ceiling. This was a night for sprawling on the bed, parting his thighs, screaming and wailing and moaning, cursing, sweating, coming - but, more importantly, receiving. This was a night for taking anything the Inquisitor wanted to give. Reciprocation would come later. Back at Skyhold, where he could worship his amatus’ body as the treasure it was.

 Tonight, he would receive his lover’s tears, his fear, and his pain. But that would come later, right now he would be on the receiving end of his hunger, his kisses, his hands, his desire and his need. A greedy mouth attached to his nipple, nipping and licking it to a rock hard pebble. Dorian wrapped his hands around the bed posts to keep from putting them on his lover. Lavellan didn’t need his hands, not yet, he needed a receptive lover, lying pliant and willing beneath him, arching and sweating, crying his name. He could do that, oh yes, he’d be happy to do that, he thought deliriously as Lavellan abandoned his stiff nipple to focus on the other, biting it lightly, earning a muffled curse.

 He parted his legs, arching his hips, hard cock pressing against Lavellan’s flat stomach, offering himself like a human sacrifice before his god, and the dalish elf answered, like he was that God come to life, coming to conquer, overtake, own and possess. Pressing between the mage’s thighs, pressing into an opening already slick and ready to receive him.

 Dorian moaned, wrapping his legs around the narrow waist of the man above him. Felt him push inside, slowly at first, but then with increasing speed until he was pounding hard. He cried out in pleasure as Lavellan hit his sweet spot at just the right angle. Lavellan shifted his hips slightly, beginning a ruthless battering of that spot designed to make Dorian scream in pleasure, and Dorian gave him what he wanted. His back arching, neck muscles straining, hands gripping the bed posts so hard he swore they bent from the force, crying out with every thrust. Lavellans only response was to pound even harder into his lover, biting his shoulder in a way that could only be described as _marking._ If he could get into the saddle without wincing tomorrow it’d be a grand achievement.

 The bed was rocking alarmingly, banging against the wall with every brutal thrust, but Dorian couldn't find it in himself to care. Lavellan had found the exact right angle - and speed - at this point to unerringly nail Dorian’s prostate with every thrust of his narrow hips, and it was all he could do but to lay back and take it like a bitch being thoroughly bred. He looked up at his gorgeous lover, who had braced himself on his elbows and knees in order to truly go about shagging the mage into the mattress. Which he did, with the same intense focus he did everything in his life. Really, all Dorian could do was enjoy the ride. So, that’s what he did, like a good boy, his frantic cries of passion accompanied by the bed smacking against the wall in a song that was as beautiful as it was obscene.

 He wanted it to last forever, to lie under the inquisitor like this until the world ended, but no man is a god and even if you’re currently enjoying some of the best sex you’ve ever had, your legs clamped around his waist, your body heaving under his as every thrust of his cock makes you see stars, sooner or later you’re going to reach the peak and fall over the edge into mindless ecstasy. And Lavellan was close now, his rhythm not as punishing, and his hips stuttering. Dorian clenched his fingers around one perfectly shaped buttock in encouragement his voice was too hoarse to utter, groaning as his hard cock rubbed between their heaving bodies. It was so good, too good, but at the same time not enough.

 A slim hand with long, slender fingers found its way between them and wrapped around his cock. Lavellan pulled once, twice, and Dorian let go with an accompanying shattered scream that must have been heard in the entire building as he came apart under his beautiful amatus, who answered him with a breathless cry of, _“Doe! Oh, gods, Doe!”,_ as he pressed inside one last time and erupted _._

 They fell back onto the bed, exhausted, trembling, bodies still heaving from the exertion. Dorian wondered, once his brain started working again, if anyone would miss them if they stayed in this bed for the rest of their lives. Sadly, they would. He kissed his lovers´ sweaty hair, his sweet face, stroked his shuddering back until the elf lay still and sated between his thighs.

 After several long moments of silence, during which they changed positions into something more comfortable, still wrapped around each other like they were parts of a whole, Lavellan nestled against his chest, the elf finally said what Dorian had in some way been waiting for since they left the dragon’s clearing.

 “I nearly lost you today” the elf whispered into his chest, his voice wet and quivering. “Please, don’t ever make me live without you. I could not bear facing the world without you in it.” Dorian closed his eyes briefly. With the lives they led, how could he make such a promise? It was highly likely it would happen. But his sweet amatus, who was trying so hard not to cry, didn’t need the truth tonight. He needed a warm, willing lover and promises of forever. So that’s what he gave.

“I will never voluntarily leave you.” he whispered.

 

* * *

 

Cassandra looked out the window, bleary eyed. Most of the night had passed at this point and she was still wide awake. At least the pleasured cries had _finally_ died off after one last howl that had nearly made her wonder if there was a darkspawn invasion going on and they’d forgotten to inform her.

 But in the silence that had fallen over the inn, she could hear something that would not give her peace, no matter how much she tried to block it out. Really, she’d prefer listening to them having sex over this noise.

 She rolled over, pulled the duvet over her head and tried her damnedest not to hear the inquisitor weeping.

 


End file.
